I'm Sorry
by RavenclawSweetheart8
Summary: How I would have made the wand connection between Harry and Voldemort. I, of course, am NOT J. K. Rowling, so this is just a fanfic.


I am NOT J. K. Rowling, nor do I own _Harry Potter_. This is just how I would have written the wand experience between Harry and Voldemort in _HPGOF_. This is purely fan fiction, and is not what actually happened.

Harry gripped the wand in hands tightly, his knuckles turning white. The beam of light connecting his wand to Voldemort's was vibrating almost painfully now. As if on cue, the beam crackled with an electrical air, dropping Harry to his knees. Panting, he struggled to hold onto the wand, a voice inside him calling out: _Don't break the connection._

_I know!_ He told himself. He tried to shout out in pain, but the powerful vibrations surged through his arms, and throughout his body, his teeth chattering so hard he could not even open his mouth. Wincing, he squinted his eyes up toward the light between him and Voldemort. Small beads of light danced along the thread connecting the wands, the closest about a foot away. Shakily, he willed the light away. It moved slowly down the thread toward Voldemort's wand, taking with it the painful vibrations.

Voldemort's deathly pale hands clutched tightly to his own wand, his lips forming a sneer, as the light inched toward the tip of his want. Narrowing his red eyes in concentration, he willed the light back toward Harry's own wand.

_No. _A voice rang through his mind. _Don't let it touch!_

_But why?_ Harry thought. There was no answer. Focusing all his energy on moving the light back at Voldemort, Harry blinked, his eyesight turning red. He shook his head slightly, clearing his eyes, sweat beading on his forehead. He had to get the bead across, and then he could rest! Harry was exhausted, his eyelids heavy with pain. _Almost…._ The bead slowed to a stop, centimeters from Voldemort's wand. "No," Harry murmured, dazedly. "No!" With a final burst of energy, he willed the light to touch.

An earsplitting scream erupted from the beams of light enclosing them. Harry almost dropped his wand from shock, but the voice advised him otherwise: _Don't let go!_

Voldemort looked as if he would like to release his wand, but his hands were glued to it, his eyes wide as smoke began to seep from the tip. Harry stared, enthralled, as the smoke thickened, forming a smoky grey figure before them.

"C-Cedric?" Harry's teeth chattered with the vibrations.

"Hullo, Harry. Don't let go." Cedric nodded at him, before turning to face the wand, which was still erupting smoke. Next, a dull, limping figure of a man emerged, blinking around him in surprise.

"You!" He shouted, waving his walking stick at Voldemort. "I don't know who or what you are, but…." He stopped, at a loss for words before turning to Harry. "You can beat him, kid."

The two turned, looking expectantly at the wand. A woman was stumbled out, and looked around her. She was vaguely familiar….

"Bertha." Cedric said. "She worked with the ministry." Harry nodded, and looked quickly back at the wand, uncomprehendingly. Another figure was forming out of the wand.

The first thing Harry saw was a curtain of thick hair, and he squinted into the face of the woman as she emerged. "Mum?" Harry's heart fell. He felt as if he had suddenly been doused in ice-cold water.

The woman smiled at him. "Don't let go." She urged him, and Harry noticed it was the voice that had been encouraging him the whole time. "Your father is on his way."

Harry stared, dumbstruck, as he watched the lanky figure of his father step out of the smoke.

James smiled at him, and stepped towards his mother. "You can do it, son."

A lump formed in his throat, and he held on tighter.

"Harry," Cedric whispered, beside him. "Will you take my body back to my dad? Please? He'll…. He'll want it." Harry nodded at the figure, and Cedric smiled before walking back toward the limping old man.

"Harry." Harry looked up, the smiling faces of his parents looming before him.

Harry swallowed thickly. "Mum. Dad."

"You must let go. We will remain, but only for seconds. We'll distract him, and you must run. "

"Mum." Harry's voice cracked. After all he'd been through, they were telling him to run? "But-"

"Harry, she's right, you're losing time, even now." His father said. "You can't hold on much longer."

"But I-" Harry protested, tears leaking down his cheeks.

"Don't cry, Harry." His mother crooned softly, moving as if to brush his cheek, but stopped, slowly pulling her hand back. "We love you Harry."

Harry was speechless. Finally, he nodded.

"That's my boy." His father smiled. "On three. One…. Two…. Three!"

Harry dropped to his knees, the wand falling beside him. The lights surrounding them vanished, stunning the Death Eaters.

"Run Harry!" Cedric cried, already fading.

"But- Mum!" His mother smiled sadly.

"Harry, dear, tell…. Tell him I'm sorry."

"Tell who? MUM!"

"Please? Tell him I'm…. That I'm sorry. For everything." The smoke was slowly curling upward, and the Death Eaters were slowly coming to their senses.

"TELL WHO?" Harry bellowed, grabbing helplessly for the smoke.

"Sev-" His mother vanished, the smoke curling into the night, and Harry collapsed to his knees, curling his empty fingers to his aching chest.


End file.
